Something's Cooking
by Poiniard
Summary: COMPLETE Four young adventurers investigate a mysterious cottage on the edge of town, and find something's cooking.
1. Chapter 1

**SOMETHING'S COOKING**

_This short fanfiction is based on the Dungeons and Dragons mini-module, "Something's Cooking," a short adventure for four 2nd-level PC's by Andy Collins, available from the Wizards of the Coast website._

**CHAPTER ONE**

Braun stared glumly into his soup. With a disappointed growl, the big man turned his spoon, watching the thin liquid slide back into the bowl with a plop. "I can't eat this," he said.

"Aw, c'mon, lad," said his companion, Dorin, who was seated across the small table. "A warrior's got to keep up his strength. Eat!" Grinning, the dwarf laid into his own bowl of turnipy stew, slurping it down, then reached for one of the hard biscuits on the plate between them.

"You didn't think that adventurin' was all romance and swashbucklin' now, didya?" Dorin asked through a mouthful of food. Crumbs spilled out onto his beard, but the grizzled dwarf was unconcerned. "Well, it ain't," he said. "Oh, it has its moments, but most of the time its bloody, dangerous work. It can get boring between jobs, I spose. Just gotta keep yer spirits up. Stay sharp. Things'll turn around."

Braun glanced around the common room. The two friends were in a corner table of the Tangled Web, the only inn of the small village of Bryn. "But we've got nothing," he said. "This meal cost me our last copper." He looked down at his mail hauberk, and the heavy battle axe tucked discretely under the table, beside his heavy pack. Braun didn't mind being poor, but completely penniless was something new and worrisome.

They'd come to Bryn seeking adventure. Many were the tales of old ruins in the nearby Forest of Spiders, stories of ancient dungeons full of forgotten hoards just waiting to be plundered by those brave enough- or foolhardy enough- to take them. But the reality was somewhat different. Bryn already had a band of adventurers in residence- four local heroes called the Golden Company. They had already cleared all of the dungeons Braun and his three companions had gone to explore, and the Golden Company was not interested in joining with any upstart newcomers who came into their territory. The older company had more than once saved Bryn from raiders out of the Forest of Spiders, and had made quite a reputation for themselves. Braun and his friends had more than once been politely advised to move on.

Braun glanced over at the stairs. "Here comes Prester," he said.

A young mage came down the stairs, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. His robes looked a little tattered, his hair was disheveled, and he had one of his omnipresent books tucked under one arm. Prester wore a longsword sheathed at his side, hung from his belt alongside all the pouches with his spell components. Braun had never once seen the wizard draw it, and he wondered why a wizard would even carry such a weapon. The man was skinny and bordered on clumsy, and the fighter doubted his friend even knew how to swing a sword. But Prester had never spoken of it, despite the odd looks it garnered from his friends.

The wizard pulled up a chair and sat down. He put his dusty book on the table and helped himself to one of the biscuits. "I guess Embeth isn't back yet?"

"Nay," Braun said. He pushed his half-eaten bowl of soup to the wizard.

"You're not hungry?"

Braun shook his head. "You look like you need it more than I do."

Prester shrugged. "I could eat, thanks." He took a few bites, and they all sat in silence for a while. Then, the door of the taproom opened, and the fourth member of their company walked in.

Embeth was an elf-maiden- wise, beautiful and intelligent. She was the oldest of any of them, even Dorin, she said, but she didn't look it. To Braun's eyes, Embeth looked like a young woman barely twenty, yet he knew she was well over a century old. Her pointed ears and slender build clearly showed she was one of the Fair Folk. Braun watched as she spotted them immediately and crossed the room to their table. She wore a tunic of mithril mail, with a sword at her side and an elven bow across her back, along with a quiver of arrows. She wore a grey elven cloak and boots. Her long blond hair was tied in a single braid and hung over her shoulder. Braun knew Embeth had risen before dawn, to practice her sword-patterns in the courtyard of the inn, before going out into the village to find employment.

"Fair morning, my friends," she said cheerfully. "What a sorry-looking lot you three are. There's sun on the rooftops and wind in the meadows. Why so glum?"

Dorin just muttered something under his breath that Braun couldn't hear, but Embeth's sharp ears must have caught it. She arched an eyebrow and looked at the dwarf.

"We're down to our last coppers," Braun said.

"Well then, we're in luck."

Prester looked up at her. "You found something, Embeth?"

"I have indeed!" She grabbed a chair from the next table and turned it around, sitting backwards in the chair with her elbows across the backrest. "Not much, but it is something."

"Tell us then, lass," Dorin said. "Out with it!"

The elf leaned forward and lowered her voice. "Do you know those wizards who live on the edge of town?"

Prester blinked. "Wizards? I didn't- "

"Yes, I do," Braun said, interrupting him. "Andolyn and Gendrew. They live quietly in a small cottage."

"I'd sure like to meet them," Prester said. "I think- "

"Always brewing up something strange?" Braun continued.

"That's them," Embeth said, nodding. "This morning, one of the locals said he smelled the foulest stench yet coming out of their chimney."

"They're up to no good, I reckon," Dorin said.

"I think we should investigate," Embeth said.

Braun rubbed his chin doubtfully. "I don't know. Doesn't sound like there's much in it."

"Well, maybe there is and maybe there isn't," Embeth said. "But what's the harm in us paying them a friendly visit?" She put a hand on Prester's shoulder. "And maybe our wizard here will get a chance to talk shop with some fellow finger-wagglers."

"Yes, I'd like that," Prester said, nodding his head like a puppy. "I'd love to exchange- "

"What about the Golden Company?" Braun interrupted. "If there's evil sorcery afoot, why haven't they already dealt with it?"

"That's just it," Embeth said. "They've gone off, into the Forest of Spiders hunting monsters. They set out this morning." She beamed.

"That settles it, then," Dorin said, brushing the crumbs from his beard. "Let's go!"


	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER TWO**

Their trek through the village was really more of a stroll. The sun climbed slowly into the midsummer morning sky, and the village of Bryn seemed nothing more than a sleepy hamlet. The four companions walked about a quarter-mile out of town, and it was not long before they came upon a grove of maple trees. There stood a small, unassuming cottage- the home of the wizards Andolyn and Gendrew.

Braun eyed the place suspiciously. No one seemed to be about, but there was a line of smoke ascending from the chimney. "Looks pretty peaceful," he said, hefting his axe.

"Something smells funny to me," Dorin said, wrinkling his nose.

"Like cooking," Prester observed.

"Aye," Dorin agreed, but his brow was furrowed. Something worried him. The dwarf was a bit of a cook himself, though his companions didn't know it, and when Dorin said something smelled out of place, he meant it literally. "It's baking, not cooking," he said cryptically. Dorin unlimbered his roundshield and strapped it to his arm. He pulled a heavy-looking dwarven warhammer from his belt. The dwarf took a few steps toward the cottage, then looked back over his shoulder, to make sure his companions were similarly prepared.

Braun already had his two-handed greataxe in hand, and Embeth had strung her bow and donned her thick leather gloves. Prester was staring at the cottage when Dorin strode up to the door and rapped on it with his knuckles.

When no answer came after several repeated attempts, Dorin tried the door. It swung open, and the four adventurers entered the silent cottage. They found themselves in a cozy sitting room. There was a large sofa and an overstuffed chair facing a fireplace in one corner, and a small reading table next to a window. On one side, an archway opened onto a hallway, and on the other side was another leading to a small dining room.

"The fireplace is cold," Dorin said, sticking a hand over the hearth. "The smoke we saw from the chimney must be coming from the kitchen."

Braun went to one of the archways and peered down the hall. He began to feel like a trespasser. Nothing seemed out of place, but the room was quiet and dark. "It must be down this way," he said.

Prester and Embeth went over to the reading desk by the window. The curtains were drawn shut, but the wizard spied something on the table- on open book lay on it.

"A book," he exclaimed. "I wonder- " Prester licked a finger and reached out to turn a page.

Suddenly, the booked lifted up a little, of its own accord. Before Prester could draw back his hand, the book slammed shut, hard, on the unsuspecting mage. "Ow!" Prester cried. He yanked his hand away, and the book flew up off the desk, flapping angrily. "Look out! It's animate!"

Embeth, who stood beside the wizard, had been reaching for the curtains, thinking to open them so Prester could get a closer look at the pages of the book. But when the thing slammed shut on the wizard's hand, the curtains rustled as well. The draw cord lashed out and wrapped itself tightly around her wrist.

"What the blazes?" Dorin asked. He whirled around, but as he did so the black iron poker that had been leaning up against the fireplace rose up and tried to stab him, but was turned aside by his dwarven ring mail.

Prester frantically swatted at the book, which fluttered and darted in midair, its pages flapping like a bird. "Get it off me!"

Dorin spun around and bashed the animated fireplace poker with his hammer. The blow connected, and the poker was sent flying against the wall, permanently bent. The dwarf chased the thing down and pounded it again. "Just to make sure you don't get up again."

Embeth cried out in surprise when the cord wrapped itself around her arm. She tried to yank it from the wall, but strong as she was, she couldn't break it. The middle of the cord rose up and tried to entangle itself around her neck. The elf was unable to reach her sword with her right hand, but with her left she grabbed a long knife from her belt and snapped the cord. Immediately, it went slack and the severed piece fell from her wrist.

Braun scowled and raised his big black axe over his head, almost brushing the ceiling. "Look out, Prester!" The young wizard barely managed to dodge out of the way before Braun's battle axe came down on the book, driving the object to the ground and chopping the thing cleanly in half.

They went hastily into the dining room, quickly surveying it for signs of trouble. Nothing seemed out of place, and none of the furniture rose up to attack them. The fine dining table was set for two, though there were four chairs. Braun eyed the silver candlestick warily. Dorin cautiously opened the drawer in a side cabinet, but seeing that it held only a box of fine silverware- including a few sharp-looking knives which fortunately remained quietly in their places- he shut the drawer again.

A large picture window provided a view of the trees outside, and beside that was another archway. "This leads to the kitchen," Embeth said.

The others followed her into what looked like a disaster area. Pots and pans were strewn about the well-appointed kitchen, with broken crockery littering the floor and ingredients of all kinds splattered on the walls. The pantry door was closed- held shut by a chair someone had propped under the knob.

"It's warm in here," Prester said, loosening the collar on his robes.

"It looks like someone was dragged from the room," Braun said, pointing to some tracks on the dirty floor. "Towards that hallway."

"There are other tracks here, too," Embeth said. "See them? They circle around the room, and end at this door." She looked at the others. "They're not human."

"Something's definitely odd here," Dorin agreed. "There's tomato sauce splattered here on the wall, but none of these containers held tomatoes." The dwarf turned to the stove, a sturdy iron potbellied affair, where he could hear a crackling fire. A pipe led up from the stove and out through the roof. "They left their stove alight," he said.

Suddenly, the door of the stove burst open, and a small, fiery creature leapt out. It had two points of bright blue flame for eyes. The thing flew straight at Dorin with a screech. The surprised dwarf was able to raise his shield at the last second, deflecting the thing's attack, but it still managed to singe his beard. "Look out! An elemental!"

Braun reacted swiftly, bringing his huge axe to bear in a brutal overhead swing. Had the thing been a mortal creature of flesh and blood, that blow would easily have split it in two, but instead the fire spirit danced aside and, for an instant two separate flames, pulled itself together again. It was not quite as large as it had been.

The fighter's axe bounced off the floor, shattering a piece of broken pottery before he could ready himself for another swing.

Embeth had never fought an elemental before, but she knew magic would harm the thing more than plain steel, so she drew her enchanted dagger instead of her sword. Lunging, she thrust the ancient elven blade into the heart of the creature of fire, wounding it.

Prester thought quickly. Fumbling in his pouch, he pulled out his water skin. Thankfully, he had remembered to fill it that morning. He split it open with his knife. "Look out!" He dashed the water full on the little elemental- and the dwarf.

The thing sputtered and then disappeared in a puff of steam, leaving only a soggy Dorin.

"Good thinking, Prester," Embeth said.

Dorin grumbled. His beard was soaking wet and still smoldering.

"At least you're not on fire any more," the wizard said.

"All right you two," Braun said. "We can discuss this later. But whatever's behind this, we'll find the answer behind that door." He pointed at the tracks on the floor, and the chair. "I'm not sure what tale these tracks tell, but let's get to the bottom of it. Dorin, open that door."

Nothing leapt out when they removed the chair and opened the door. Instead, they found a set of stairs which led down to the pantry of the absent wizards. The basement room look as if it had once been used to store provisions, but every shelf, barrel, box and crate was smashed to bits.

Standing in the center of the room was a creature that looked to be made entirely of pastry. Reddish smears marred its well-baked outer crust. The thing was massive, for a baked good- and it was as tall as Braun. With a bubbling growl, the strange construct charged the adventurers.

Embeth attacked immediately, slashing at the monster with her longsword. The golem seemed to have a hard outer crust, but the sharp edge of the elf-maiden's sword sliced and shattered. A substance that looked more like a thick tomato paste than blood spurted from the wound, splashing Embeth's face and neck with a burning hot sauce. The elf cried out in pain and turned aside, covering her face.

Braun took a step forward, hefting his battleaxe overhead. He would get revenge for what that thing had done to Embeth. He hacked deeply into the golem's shoulder, wounding it grievously, but he also got splashed by the burning sauce that coursed through the monster's inhuman veins.

"It's a construct of some sort," Prester marveled aloud. He'd never seen nor heard of such a creature, but its mere existence was an accomplishment of arcane proportions. Andolyn and Gendrew must be wizards of no small skill- not to mention pretty good cooks- to have constructed such a creature.

The wizard guessed that at least a hundred pounds of flour and cheese must have gone into it, not to mention the gallons of tomato sauce and the large quantities of salt, yeast and he knew not what else it would have taken. Why, it would take at least two hours of baking at well over four hundred degrees!

"What're you gaping at, wizard?" Dorin asked. The dwarf was carefully trying to sneak around the golem, thinking to bash it in the back of the knees, or where the knees should have been. "Blast the thing!"

That puzzled Dorin. This was not the first time he had broken into a wizard's home. The dwarf had heard of golems before- mindless automatons created by wizards to guard their lairs. But golems were made of steel, or stone, or even flesh. He glanced quickly around the devastated pantry. Everything that had once been stored there was all of the finest quality- flour and tomatoes, mushroom and olives, even oregano and black pepper. He thought back to all the times when he'd cooked by a campfire. "All the ingredients for making- "

The dwarf stared up at the inhuman creature. "By Dumathoin's Black Beard," he cried. "It's a calzone golem!"

With that, Dorin lowered the visor on his helm, to protect his face from the burning he knew was to come, and swung his hammer at the golem's leg.

The thing seemed to go berserk. It brought one giant fist down on Braun, who was standing over Embeth, trying to protect her. His sturdy Borderland mail absorbed some of the crushing blow, but still he was driven to his knees. And the thing gave off an enormous heat, like it had just come from some infernal oven.

It lashed out again, flailing in an uncontrolled rampage, knocking over more shelves and smashing a barrel with one giant, crispy footlike appendage. The golem turned on Dorin and landed a blow on his shield with enough force to fling the sturdy dwarf across the room.

Dorin landed in the corner, dazed. His helm was turned around, and for a few moments he saw stars dancing before his eyes. Then the dwarf righted himself and got to his feet. "Dang thing dented my shield," he said.

Braun managed to get back on his feet about the same time. He readied his axe for another swing. He glanced down at Embeth. "Are you all right?"

"Yes," she gasped, getting to all fours. She struggled to her feet. "I'll be fine."

Just then, the golem inhaled deeply, and it was like a fire being stoked. It exhaled sharply, and a noxious cloud came out of the head-like appendage. The stinging, reddish gas encompassed Braun and Embeth, burning their eyes and skin.

Prester, outside the immediate range of the thing's breath weapon, pulled a dagger from his belt. Rapidly speaking a few words of magic, he touched the knife then threw it with all his strength. His aim was true, and the dagger pierced the golem's protective crust and embedded itself to the hilt.

Braun and Embeth fought off the painful effects of the golem's breath and struck it with axe and longsword. Dorin added another solid blow from behind. The golem raged on a few moments longer, but it was weakening.

The four companions knew they had the upper hand. It was not long before they had chopped and pounded the thing back into dough. The small room filled with the acrid smell of burned crust.

"That was cursedly odd," Dorin said, leaning on his warhammer.

"No, it was amazing!" Prester exclaimed. "Why, just to think, how would one go about making such a creature? I'd love to meet the wizard who invented it! Why, I imagine it would require an artificer of at least the eighth- no, ninth- circle just to animate it. And you'd need, what? The grease spell, burning hands, stinking cloud…"

The others just looked at Prester like he was crazy, and scraped the rapidly-cooling tomato sauce from their weapons and gear.

"He's right about one thing," Braun said. "I'd like to meet the wizard who invented it, too."


	3. Chapter 3

**CHAPTER THREE**

Back in the kitchen, they re-examined the tracks they had seen earlier.

"Someone was dragged off, down that hallway," Dorin said. "But these smaller tracks weren't made by that golem creature, or I'm an elf."

Embeth raised an eyebrow.

"So, what made this other set of tracks?" Braun asked. "They look vaguely humanoid to me."

"No," Dorin said. "There's no apparent toe-marks. These are something else. Like hooves, perhaps."

"Hooves?"

"Aye. And from the looks of it, whatever creature made those smaller tracks must also have put the chair against the door."

"Trapping the golem in the pantry?" Braun asked.

"That'd be my guess," Dorin said. "Then it dragged some fellow off down that hallway." The dwarf rubbed at his beard.

"One of the wizards!" Prester exclaimed.

"What?" Braun asked.

"No, he's right," Dorin said. "That giant walking calzone we killed down there was some wizard's guardian. I've seen it before- well, never quite like that one, but I've seen golems before. One of the first rules of robbing a wizard's house is to get rid of all the magical guardians."

"You make a habit of robbing wizards houses?" Embeth asked.

"No, no," Dorin spluttered. "Never mind about that. What I'm saying is, whatever creature made those tracks first overpowered the wizard, somehow managed to trick his golem into the pantry, then locked it in and dragged the wizard off."

"So, where's the other wizard?" Braun asked. "I thought two of them lived here."

"There might only be one here," Embeth said. "Gendrew. His wife, Andolyn, used to be in the Golden Company, before she retired."

"And they're away," Braun said. "You think she came out of retirement and went with them?"

Dorin shrugged. "Either that or she's dead upstairs. All depends what it is made those tracks."

"Hooves, you said?" Embeth asked quietly.

"That'd be my guess," Dorin said. "Why?"

"Because, I sense some evil upstairs."

They all stared down the hallway, at what looked to be a set of stairs leading up.

"That settles it," Braun said, gripping his axe. "We're going to see this wizard."

At the top of the stairs they found a single door, which Braun kicked in without hesitation. A large bed dominated the room, but one entire wall was lined with bookshelves above a writing desk. Sprawled across the bed was a bloody, battered man, tied at the wrists and ankles. And perched on the desk, idly tearing books to pieces, was a small, bat-winged, cloven-hoofed imp.

"Foul creature!" Braun yelled, seeing what had been done to the man on the bed.

"Spawn of Hell!" Embeth shouted, looking at the infernal creature's hellish wings.

"No, not the books!" Prester cried.

"By Moradin's Bloody Eyes," Dorin swore. "Just kill the thing."

The imp immediately hissed and leapt to the attack. Although small, it was deceptively powerful and infernally quick. With a few quick flaps of its bat-like wings, the red-skinned little devil flew towards the ceiling and took the measure of its attackers. Seeing Prester standing near the doorway, the imp deemed the spellcaster to be the greatest immediate threat to its existence on the material plane. It swooped down towards the lightly-armored wizard, barbed tail ready to strike.

Prester saw the imp coming at him, and immediately began casting a spell. His outstretched hands seemingly burst into flames, and the wizard held up his burning hands, ready to grasps the imp when it came within range. He hoped that fire would hurt the infernal thing- he wasn't sure, but it was the only offensive spell that he knew.

His companions, though, were ready to protect their friend. Embeth hastily spoke aloud a prayer to the gods and goddesses of the elves, and the light in the room seemed to brighten momentarily. The elf raised her sword to smite the imp, and the thing squawked in pain, blinking its eyes. But the creature shook off the attack and dove at the wizard.

When the imp swooped down on Prester, it came within range of Braun and Dorin, giving each of them an opportunity to strike. Braun's axe sliced off a wing and an arm, and Dorin's hammer caught the thing square in the abdomen, sending it against a wall. Prester grabbed it with his hands, burning the creature's scaly hide. But it still had a poisonous barb on its tail, and the wizard drew back.

"Kill it," Prester urged. "Get it before it goes invisible!"

"Ack, save me, master Woganpuck!" The imp was desperate, and made a last attempt to flee. It fluttered away on broken wings, but before it could escape, Embeth's bowstring hummed and an elven arrow pierced the imp through the chest, pinning it to the wall. The hellish creature slumped, and exploded into dust.

"Is it dead?" Dorin asked, lowering his hammer.

"Dead and gone," Embeth said. "Without a doubt."

"Good work, everyone," Braun said. "Let's see to the imp's prisoner."

The battered prisoner on the bed was not dead, nor even as badly wounded as the adventurers had feared. Dorin wrinkled his nose and gingerly wiped a little of the blood that stained the man's shirt. The dwarf sniffed at it. "Tomato sauce," he announced, holding up his finger.

Some of the man's wounds were real, though, the cruel result of the imp's claws. Braun took out one of the party's prized healing potions and poured it down the prisoner's throat, while Dorin and Prester worked to untie his bonds. Embeth gently touched the man's forehead, and they managed to revive him.

He sat up and looked around. "Is it gone?"

"Yes, we killed it," Braun said. "What is your name?"

"I am Gendrew. But, who are you?"

"I am Braun, and these are my companions, Embeth, Dorin- "

"And I'm Prester," the wizard said, extending his hand. "I'm most pleased to meet you, Gendrew. I've heard so much about you, and I'd really like to know- "

"Wait," Gendrew interrupted. "Where's Andolyn?"

"I'm here," said a feminine voice.

The four adventurers spun around, surprised. They felt the tell-tale rush of air and the distinct soft crackle of noise that immediately followed a spell of teleportation, sensations that in later adventures they would come to recognize all too well. But just then, the four had no real inkling of what had just occurred, other than that a woman had suddenly appeared out of thin air.

Andolyn was a slight woman, just entering what humans considered middle age, but she was still trim and attractive. She was obviously a fellow adventurer, judging by the sturdy, practical robes, cloak and boots that she wore, and the number of pouches and cases that hung at her belt. She wore a small pack on her back, and carried a runed staff in her hands. The four companions could barely sense an aura about her, or perhaps it was just that Andolyn carried herself with an air of confidence and power that comes along with being an experienced adventuress. Her gaze darkened as she took in the dried blood on her husband, and the torn books strewn about the room. She eyed Braun and his companions suspiciously. "Gendrew, what has happened?"

The man threw up his arms. "Wait, Andolyn, these are our friends. They rescued me."

The wizardess relaxed a little, and Dorin let out a sigh of relief. Braun loosened his grip on his battleaxe, and Embeth lowered her bow. Andolyn walked past the four companions and sat down on the bed beside Gendrew.

"Now, tell me what happened, and quickly."

"An imp flew into the kitchen, just as I had completed work on the calzone golem," Gendrew explained. "It attacked the golem with its claws, scratching it." He turned to face his wife. "When we first met, it seemed like a match made in heaven. Andolyn was a skilled wizard with a love of a good meal, looking for an excuse to settle down from adventuring."

"And Gendrew was a master chef, looking to create new methods of cooking," Andolyn added.

"Together, we took up a quiet life of baking and brewing. The calzone golem was our master work, the perfect union of the culinary and the arcane. But our experiment has gone horribly wrong, Andolyn. The imp's attack on the golem triggered some sort of berserk rage we had not foreseen. The golem wreaked havoc in the kitchen, then turned on me, knocking me out."

"When I came to," Gendrew continued, "I was up here, held prisoner by the imp." He turned to face the adventurers. "I don't know where the golem is now, so be careful. And be warned- it is resistant to fire and utterly berserk."

"Don't worry," Braun said. "We already found it. The imp somehow tricked the golem into going down to your pantry, and managed to trap it there. We already killed it."

"One thing I must ask," Embeth said. "Where did the imp come from? It mentioned a name."

"Don't say it aloud!" Andolyn warned. "I can guess who its master was. The imp serves an old enemy of mine, a devil who must have sent it to cause trouble while I was away."

"It seems to have succeeded," Dorin said.

"What about the items in your sitting room?" Prester asked.

"Years ago," Andolyn explained, "I dabbled in animation magic, in an attempt to create various labor-saving devices. Though I didn't pursue the effort very far, those were a few of my early results."

"It seems the berserk state of the golem has affected them, as well," Prester said. "We had to disable a few of the things."

"Well," Andolyn said with a sigh. "The imp is gone, the golem destroyed. I'm glad you weren't too badly hurt, Gendrew."

"A lot of this is tomato sauce," the master chef said, tugging at his stained tunic. "And they must have healed me."

The wizardess conjured up an unseen servant, and set it about the long task of cleaning up the cottage. "It seems Gendrew and I owe you all a debt," Andolyn said with a disarming smile. From a secret compartment in the writing desk, she produced a small box, and took out the contents one-by-one, handing them to the adventurers.

"To you, Braun, I give two potions- bull's strength and vision. For Dorin, I have potions of jump and cat's grace. For Embeth, I have endure fire and cure moderate wounds. And for you, Prester…"

She tapped her finger on her chin. The little box was empty. "Perhaps I have the time to teach you a spell or two. Did you bring your traveling spellbook with you?"

"I have it right here."

"And I will prepare a fabulous feast," Gendrew said, excited. "Everyone is invited."


End file.
